


First Day

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-06
Updated: 2008-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-19 19:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12416190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Hogwarts makes a big impression in those first few hours. A lot, and not much at all, happens in a first day.





	First Day

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

“I just want to be brave,” he thought, and perhaps whispered aloud into the black.

It was hard to tell the difference, for with a large and possibly maggoty hat on one’s head, things you think tend to echo around in your head until you’re sure everyone watching (so, everyone in the massive, echoing hall) has heard.

It was hard to focus on being brave when he also was so focused on the feast, and also off-put by the fact that Sirius Black from the train was also in Gryffindor, the house Peter was now trying so hard to have himself admitted to. There was something not quite right about Sirius Black, but James had taken to him right away.

Maybe that’s what Peter didn’t like about him. They’d been Potter and Pettigrew since primary, and they’d never disagreed about first impressions before.

But this was all rubbish for the moment, of course, because there was a maggoty old hat on his head, and it wasn’t saying anything and it must have been a year already. Why hadn’t they just yanked it off and sent him home? Clearly he didn’t belong here.

“Untrue entirely,” the hat said.

Peter jumped. Probably quite visibly.

“You value bravery. You admire it in others and with to gain it for yourself. Quite talented, but you’ll never be one for much theory, I’m afraid… No ambition whatsoever, but quite a liking for tarts.”

Now, Peter thought this was going a tad too far. What right had the hat to mock his pudding of choice? _Everyone_ has a pudding of choice. And he did indeed have ambition – he aimed to be in the same house as James (pity he was further down the alphabet – would have made this easier), so that they might wreak havoc and find the source of unlimited tarts and custard with strawberries (James’ pudding of choice).

“I think you’ve gone too far with that comment,” he said.

Peter had a strange feeling that, could hats show facial expression, it would have smirked at him.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

*

Only idiots say things like, “Maybe I’ll break with tradition.”  

Only idiots keep replaying that sentence in their head, and as hard as they try to banish it, let a mouldy hat of little grandeur but too much power hear said sentence. 

Only idiots end up in Gryffindor.

Sirius Black was an idiot, and he was never, ever leaving his bed.

He wondered if his mother would have heard by now. Oh, how his father must be disappointed. His mother’s Howler would be one thing, but to go home at Christmas and see his father behind his desk, disappointed at his first born son, the heir to the Black family, a Gryffindor. A Gryffindor who lived amongst blood-traitors and half-bloods.

It was almost too much shame to bear.

Why had he said that to Potter? Break with tradition, indeed.

“Wake up, Black! I’ve got five more Dungbombs, and if we hurry we can find a Ravenclaw Prefect to flick them at.”

Sirius Black, toujours pur, loved Dungbombs.

Well, he thought, his parents would always have Reg.

*

“Sev,” she said lightly, bounding up behind him, “how many Snickers to a Galleon is it, again?”

The boys around him looked to her quickly: raised eyebrows and smirks were the expression of choice.

“Yeah, _Sev_ ,” one said with a sharp laugh, “how many _Snickers_ is it?”

Lily bit her lip as she watched Sev’s ears turn red. It wasn’t right for them to mock him for her mistake. “Did I say it wrong?” she asked. “If I did, it’s just my mix-up. No need to be short with him.”

Sev stood quickly. “Let’s go, Lily.”  

Her legs were not as long as his, and she wasn’t quite as confident just yet, running up between all those sixth and seventh years at the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables, but she did so anyway, until they were in the Entrance Hall.

“I’m sorry to be such a pain,” she said to him with a smile when he finally slowed down, making light of her own curiosities. “I guess having Muggle parents does make a bit of a difference, doesn’t it? I have to pester you with questions all the time…”

“Don’t be silly, Lily. You just mixed up a word.” He sighed and turned to face her finally. He smiled, but his ears were red.


End file.
